Creatures of the Night After
by Lady Rathe
Summary: Sequel to Creatures of the Night. Lucius & pals attend a party at the old Riddle House & witness the horrors of bad interior decor & the Riddle family's peculiar obsession with novelty toilet seats. Can Lucius use this bizarre situation to his advantage?


**Introduction**

**Title:**

'Creatures of the Night After'

**Author:**

Lady Rathe

**Summary:**

Sequel to Creatures of the Night. Lucius & pals attend a party at the old Riddle House and witness the horrors of bad interior decor and the Riddle family's peculiar obsession with novelty toilet seats. Can Lucius use this bizarre situation to his advantage? The answers lie within.

**Rating:**

PG-13 for the disgusting, vile and completely inappropriate use of capital letters and punctuation marks where they're all supposed to be. I am so very sorry! Also, I think that there may be some swearing, sexual references and I think that Lucius gets completely naked at one point...

Yes, I'm afraid that I _did_ notice how excited you got when you read that. Shame on you.

**Thingie:**

As mentioned in the summary, this is the sequel to 'Creatures of the Night', so if you have not yet read it, do so right now. If you are already familiar with the previous story, then I must apologise for not posting this one up sooner - it's been sitting around inside my computer for months and months and I completely forgot that it existed until now. Yep, I write so much crap that I can't even keep track of it all. Bloomin' marvelous.

**Disclaimer:**

Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape and all of the other Death Eaters (with the exception of Cookie Dolohov) belong to her majesty, JK Rowling.

Brian Warner belongs to himself.

Please don't sue me! I'd simply go mad trying to decide what to wear to court.

I own nothing, I owe everything.

Onward...

ooOoo

**Creatures Of The Night After**

It is common knowledge that within the realms of Witchcraft and Wizardry, there exists two primary methods of long-distance communication. If you wish to deliver a message or send a letter, you would of course use an owl, but if your message was especially urgent or of such a nature that you could not express yourself adequately within written word, then you might feel it prudent to correspond via the Floo Network. If, however, you happen to be one of the most powerful and notorious evil overlords to ever live, you may discover that you prefer to use less conventional procedures to call upon your associates and personnel. One particularly appealing option, is to burn a permanent mark into the recipient's skin and bewitch it to cause them torturous pain whenever you desire to summon them, or to simply prompt them to remember that they are _supposed_ to be ridding the world of unworthy, mudblood filth - **not** making a cheese and pickle sandwich.

Occasionally, however, you find yourself in a situation that requires you to get back to the basics. In other words, sometimes, a sharp, shooting pain in the forearm does not convey all that must be said. Sometimes, you need to get personal...

"So I heard it from Avery, who heard it from Rookwood, who heard it from Dolohov, who heard it from Crabbe, who heard it from his wife who, by the way, now has a _full_ goatee... oh! And don't get me _started_ on the perm! I caught a glimpse of the hideous thing and I was all like: "Ew! Did something, like, crawl onto your head and die?" And it totally put me off my Smarties McFlurry - oh for the love of Merlin, what is it, Wormtail? Can't you see I'm gossiping here?"

"Y-yes, My Lord, sorry, My Lord." A short, chubby man with a pointed nose and small, beady eyes stuttered nervously as his head appeared in the fireplace alongside his master's. "I-it's just that I - well, I thought that I should - uh- remind you, My Lord, that whoever owns this fireplace is sure to wake up any minute now and discover that we have broken into their house, and - um - you being who you are and everything, we c-can't really afford to - uh - linger, My Lord."

Lord Voldemort stared at his cowardly servant through narrowed, red eyes. "Are you trying to rush me, Wormtail?"

"Ye - n-no, no, no My Lord, of course not. I - I merely meant..."

"Shut up, you bumbling twit."

"Yes, Sir, sorry, Sir."

"Go away and fondle yourself for a while, you disrespectful little pervert."

"Y-yes, Sir." Womtail's head disappeared with a 'Pop!', leaving Lord Voldemort alone with his audience once again.

"Now, where was I?" Voldemort asked, returning his full attention to the figure seated before him.

"You were about to tell me the reason why you have found it necessary to risk discovery by the Floo Network monitors at the Ministry of Magic, and wake me up at seven twenty-five in the morning just to speak to me, My Lord." Lucius Malfoy replied, stifling a yawn. "Whatever your business is Sir, it must be terribly urgent, if you have taken the liberty of breaking into someone's house."

"Indeed it is, Lucius, Indeed it is. But you must not worry yourself about those Ministry morons finding out about this little chat of ours; I have one of my minions stationed there to conveniently erase records, and cast the occasional memory charm.

"That would be _me_, Sir."

"Oh, it's you, is it?" The area of pale, lower forehead where Voldemort's eyebrows would have been situated, had they existed, raised slightly in surprise. "Well dash it all, Lucius! How on earth are you supposed to cover up my tracks if you're at home, sitting around in your slippers and nightie? Hmm?"

Lucius rubbed his sleepy grey eyes and pulled his dressing gown more tightly around himself. "Sorry." He mumbled. "I didn't know that you were going to call."

"No matter, Lucius, no matter, my darling, I shall simply make this as quick as I can."

Lucius nodded drowsily and reached over the arm of the sofa to retrieve a steaming cup of tea from the coffee table.

"You see, Lucius, I seek vital information from you. I have a question to ask you, and it is of the utmost importance that you answer it directly and honestly."

"Of course, My Lord. Pray, what is your question?"

"Well, after that party you had the other day, I heard some of the chaps talking and they said... of course, I refused to believe a word of it, but I thought that I had better ask _you_ before... "

Lucius peered at Lord Voldemort over the brim of his teacup. "The question My Lord?"

Voldemort hesitated for a moment, but then took a deep breath and plunged into the question. "Lucius Malfoy, do you _really_ dye your hair?"

With a sudden spurt and a splutter, a mouthful of tea splattered against the bricks of the stone fireplace.

"What?!! Of course not!" Lucius choked, setting his teacup down uneasily.

Lord Voldemort narrowed his venomous eyes. "Do not lie to me!" He hissed.

"I'm not! I mean, I _am_ sorry My Lord, but - "

"It will have to wait, Lucius." Voldemort interrupted. "Apparently, the occupants of this household are now awake and aware of our presence. Wormtail is attempting to beat them off as I speak. We shall resume our conversation, however, at the meeting on Friday. Make sure that you attend, and don't be late! Adieu, my fair (although quite possibly unnaturally so) Lucius!" And with a loud 'pop!', he disappeared.

Lucius sat staring at the empty fireplace for some moments, watching the drops of tea trickling down the bricks and making small puddles on the floor. He just couldn't believe it.

"I just can't believe it." He muttered to himself. "I forgot. The single action that was most imperative I perform and I forgot to do it. Now the damage done to my reputation could be irreparable. Oh, what am I to do?"

As Lucius sunk lower into the armchair with his head in his hands, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and then of the door swinging open.

"Lucius? Are you in here?" Narcissa called into the room.

Lucius sniffed loudly.

"Why are you up so early, dear?" She asked, sweeping across the room in her long, lacy nightshirt. "Is everything all right?"

When Narcissa knelt in front of her husband and saw his anguished expression, she knew immediately that everything was in fact, not all right at all. "Lucius? What's the matter?"

Lucius looked directly into his wife's pale eyes, his brow furrowed and his lower lip trembling. "Narcissa?"

"Yes, my love?"

"I FORGOT THE MEMORY CHARMS!" Lucius wailed, pounding his fists against the chair's armrests.

"Shit, my love."

Lucius seemed to agree with this sentiment, and allowed himself to be pulled into a comforting embrace before irrationally placing the blame for his misfortune entirely on Narcissa and banishing her to the basement for the remainder of the morning.

oooOooo

Narcissa and Draco were released briefly from their respective prisons to partake in a late-morning family breakfast.

As always, Lucius sat at the head of the long, dining room table with Narcissa sitting at his right side and Draco on his left. All three Malfoys sat silently nibbling their imported French toast until Draco belched loudly into his coffee.

Lucius glared at his son. "I _beg_ your pardon?" He boomed.

"Excuse me." Said Draco, recoiling at the sight of his father's glittering, bloodshot eyes and the normally pale cheeks which had been reddened by the bottle of sherry he had recently depleted.

"Animals do not get to eat at the table, Draco," Lucius said, quietly.

"Sorry, Father." Said Draco, miserably.

Silence descended upon the room again and remained for at least ten minutes until the usual, daily Malfoy mealtime routine began.

"Father, can I have a new racing broom?"

"Lucius, can I have a new gown?"

"Father, could you buy me an invisibility cloak for Christmas?"

"Lucius, when are you going to buy me that flying carpet?"

"Father, will you take me to Knockturn Alley later?"

"Lucius, I fancy a shopping trip to Paris."

"Father, I have recently noticed some - uh - changes in my body..."

"Lucius, I've missed a period..."

"ENOUGH!" Lucius thundered. "Draco, I told you before, you get nothing until your grades improve, I am too busy to take you to London at the moment, and _you_ should be too; busy _studying_ that is, and we will **not** discuss puberty at mealtimes, understand? Narcissa, just how many gowns does one person _need_? The flying carpet is on order; there is no way I am returning to Paris after that poodle incident, and for the love of Merlin, Narcissa! We have had this same conversation every day for the past thirteen years, and for hopefully the _last_ time, you are **not** pregnant!"

"But Daaaaaaaad, Potter has a _Firebolt_!"

"But Luuuuuciuuuus, I felt nauseous this morning and everything!"

"... Stupid Potter... "

"... Stupid contraceptives... "

Lucius stood up abruptly, knocking his teaspoon onto the floor with a loud clatter, and extracted his wand from a pocket inside his robes. "Avada...!"

Draco whimpered and dived underneath the table.

Narcissa sighed wearily. "Calm down, Lucius; all of that frowning is giving you wrinkles."

Lucius stood still, staring at his wife for a moment, and then decided to lower his wand and sit back down. "You're right, Narcissa. Nothing is worth the risk of wrinkles."

Narcissa nodded her approval.

"Besides," Lucius continued, "I think that I may have something to be happy about after all."

"That's wonderful, dear." Said Narcissa.

"Indeed it is, Narcissa! I think that I may have the solution to my - uh - problem."

"So you _did_ see the doctor after all, then?"

"What? Oh, no, I meant the _other _problem. I think I have the solution."

"Of course you do, dear, you are exceedingly clever. So, what do you have in mind?"

Lucius gave his wife a wry smile. "My dear, are all-night soirees considered entirely passé, or do you think that I could pull it off again?"

oooOooo

"Quite frankly dear, I don't think it'll work."

"Well quite frankly, dear wife, you are a silly, air-headed little bimbo and wouldn't know a good, well-laid plan if it bit you on the arse."

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy adjusted their masks and black robes and disapparated from their front lawn. They arrived at the Death Eater headquarters (an old cemetery) seconds later.

"Lucius! Narcissa! Darlings!" Lord Voldemort cried. "You illuminate the entire cemetery with your radiance!" He hurried towards them and kissed them both on the cheek.

A loud 'Crack!' announced the arrival of yet another Death Eater, and Voldemort immediately rushed off to greet them. "Oh! Severus! You actually _wore_ them! You wore them just for _me_! Oh, how utterly sweet of you!"

The Death Eater meeting proceeded in very much the same manner as it always did. Dimiti Dolohov served the tea and crumpets, Lord Voldemort handed out the gold stars (to the most hardworking Death Eaters), assignments were given, pleasantries were exchanged, and the date for the next meeting was arranged.

"Well, I think that about wraps things up." Said Lord Voldemort, removing his reading spectacles and laying his clipboard aside. "Are there any more announcements?"

Wormtail timidly raised his hand.

"Yes, Wormtail?"

"Um, I would just like to remind you all, incase you have forgotten, that next Thursday is my birthday, and - uh - "

"Right." Said Voldemort. "Does anyone have an announcement that any of us might actually give a shit about?"

"_I_ would like to announce something, if I may, Sir?" Lucius chimed.

"Of course you can, Lucius! You are definitely one of the most attractive people here!" Lord Voldemort beamed.

"Uh, yes... anyway, I wanted to invite you all to my next gathering, which will take place this Tuesday at Malfoy Manor. Bring your own gerbils."

"Oooh! A party!" Voldemort squealed excitedly. "I have never thrown my own party before; I was always far too busy planning world domination. Oh Lucius, why don't you let _me_ host your party?"

"Well, actually My Lord, I - " Lucius stuttered nervously. Things were not going according to plan.

"I said," Lord Voldemort hissed, his entire demeanour suddenly unpleasantly transformed, "why don't you let me host your party, Lucius?"

"Y-yes, of course, My Lord." Lucius said in resignation.

"Jolly good." Voldemort grinned, his good humour fully restored. "The gathering will be held at my parent's old place this Tuesday. Be there, or be afraid. Be **very** afraid."

The Death Eaters were dismissed. As they prepared to apparate home, they talked excitedly about Lord Voldemort's upcoming party and discussed what they were going to wear for such an occasion. It seemed that the only people who were disinterested in participating in the conversation (besides Snape) were Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.

"Darling," Narcissa Malfoy addressed her husband, delicately, "I do believe that your "good, well-laid plan" just turned around and bit _you_ in the arse."

"Avada... !"

oooOooo

When the Malfoys arrived at the old Riddle house on Tuesday evening, they were confronted with vile, floral wallpaper, combined with 'Slytherin themed' furniture and a frighteningly vast collection of novelty toilet seats, which had been neatly mounted on the drawing room walls. Apparently, Lord Voldemort's folks had been rather peculiar.

"Cozy little place this, isn't it?" Voldemort remarked, having spotted Lucius staring at the cow-print rug at his feet. "Mother did most of the decorating, although the lavatory seats are Father's - it was something of a hobby."

Lucius wondered fleetingly if Papa Riddle had been a plumber, or perhaps a psychiatric patient.

"Well, that's a very... _interesting_ collection, my Lord." Said Narcissa sycophantically. "I can scarcely wait to see what we get to sit on in the bathroom!"

"Actually, Narcissa," said Voldemort, "none of the lavatories in the house _have_ seats. If you wish to make use of the facilities, you will simply have to remove one of these, take it into the bathroom with you, and then replace it on the wall when you are done. That's what Mother, Father and I always did when we lived here together."

Lucius and Narcissa took a large step back from the wall.

"Anyway, darlings," Lord Voldemort grinned, "must mingle. Help yourself to food and drink and drugs, and I will speak to you again later."

Voldemort turned on his stiletto heel and swept into the front hall to greet more guests, and Narcissa decided to seek out her sister, Bellatrix, leaving Lucius alone in the drawing room with a greasy man dressed entirely in black.

"Severus!" Lucius called, striding towards his old school chum.

Severus Snape sneered in response.

"How have you been fairing, Severus?"

"I - "

"Please, let me speak, Sev. I would just like to say that I have no hard feelings about that Cruciatus curse, because I understand that you find it difficult to deal with your emotional constipation and that sometimes, you need to take your aggression out on someone, and we always end up hurting the ones we love the most, don't we, Sev?"

"You - !"

"Severus! Please! Don't interrupt me! Anyway, as I was saying, you and I have shared an intimate friendship for many years, and I realise that you only lash out at me occasionally because you know that there is a special bond between us - "

"Bu - "

"Shush, Sev. You know that there is a powerful bond between us, which enables us to speak frankly without offence, and feel comfortable and secure within each other's company."

"Wha - ?"

"God, Shut up and _listen_ for once, Severus! Anyway, as I was saying, at the end of the day, we both know that we will always be there for each other, to comfort each other, to love and _forgive_ each other, and of course, you know that you can talk to me about _anything_, Sev."

"Fu - !!"

"I am all ears. If there's something bothering you, talk to me about it. I'm listening!"

"Ma - "

"I'm listening Severus! I'm listening!"

"MALFOY!!!" Snape roared, glaring at his tall, blond acquaintance murderously.

"Yes, Sev?" Lucius smiled good-naturedly.

Snape was about to draw his wand and shoot an Unforgivable curse in Lucius Malfoy's direction, when he recalled something that Professor Dumbledore had said earlier about "indulging the Death Eaters, to regain their trust" and quickly changed his mind. Instead, he gritted his teeth and gave Lucius an insincere smile. "Your trouble, Lucius, is that you know me too well." He said.

If Severus Snape had not been such a cold, unfeeling individual, incapable of sentiment; he might have been greatly touched by Lucius' warm, appreciative smile. For a moment, the blond wizard looked just like a child who had been handed a large lollipop.

A few seconds later, Lord Voldemort minced back into the room, followed by a large group of chattering Death Eaters. "I want to play piñata!" He declared.

"Uh, b-but we don't _have_ a p-piñata, my Lord." Wormtail nervously pointed out.

Voldemort stamped his foot petulantly. "Piñata, I say!" He wailed. "This is _my_ party, and if _I_ want to play piñata, then we will play piñata! Understand?!"

Wormtail gulped and nodded.

"Now," Voldemort turned to address the crowd of Death Eaters, "does anyone know a good transfiguration spell for piñatas?"

The room, as a whole, shook it's head.

"Bugger." Voldemort huffed. "Plan B, then."

"P-plan B, m-my Lord?" Wormtail inquired, his instincts telling him that he would undoubtedly regret doing so.

Voldemort smiled at his minion, unpleasantly. "That's right, Wormtail. Now pay attention. I need you to quickly devour as many sweets as you can, as well as a few things that can be used as prizes; watches, picture frames, fancy quills, lacy underwear - that sort of thing, and then you must dangle yourself from the chandelier. Everyone else, grab a stick!"

"B-b-but master! If you would only allow me f-five minutes, I could apparate to a shop and p-purchase a p-piñata!"

"No time for that." Said Voldemort brusquely. "Now hurry it up, I'm getting impatient!"

"Yes, my Lord."

A few minutes later, feeling nauseous from the vast amount of sweets he had consumed, and choking on a picture frame, Wormtail reluctantly suspended himself from the chandelier. A large group of Death Eaters stood below him, brandishing large, heavy-looking wooden clubs, some of which had spiky things attached to them. This was going to be painful.

Meanwhile, Lucius Malfoy slipped unnoticed from the room just as Wormtail's bloodcurdling screams began to rattle the house. He rather suspected that his colleague's party game would soon become a little too... _messy_ for his tastes, and as if to prove his point, blood splattered onto the threshold just as he passed through.

Lucius wandered from room to room in search of Snape, who also appeared to have escaped the drawing room amidst all of the excitement. He smiled triumphantly to himself as he caught sight of a tall, thin man with shoulder-length black hair and a prominent nose, sitting on the first step of a large, carpeted staircase, eating a chocolate frog. Unfortunately, by the time Lucius realised that he had made a mistake, it was too late.

"S'up." Greeted Brian Warner, before Lucius had had time to make a getaway.

"Oh... uh... hello." Said Lucius, forcing a smile. "So... um, how -- how are you?"

"I am dead within."

"Oh, really? How awful. An aunt of mine had something like that - made going to the lavatory something of a palaver, I believe." Lucius paused and watched Warner lick a smudge of chocolate off his finger. "Um, look; I am looking for my friend, Snape. Remember him? Tall, dark fellow - looks a little like you, only without the make-up and those... what _are_ those things?" Lucius asked, pointing at Warner's bare arms, "They don't look like ordinary tattoos to me."

"No." Said Warner. "They're not."

Just then, a small group emerged from the drawing room, chattering noisily. They were covered from head to foot in blood.

"What did _you_ get, Avery?"

"A lilac thong. How about you?"

"A picture frame."

"_I_ got a _kidney_!"

"Uh, I don't think that that was meant to be one of the prizes, Macnair."

"Oh."

"Hey, Lucius! You missed a great game! It'll take the boss _months_ to scrape all the bits of Wormtail off the walls!"

Lucius smiled dryly, attempting to hide his squeamishness from his fellow Death Eaters.

Warner looked unimpressed. "Do y'all always treat your colleagues like that?" He snarled. "No wonder there's hardly any of you left, with all this shit goin' on."

Avery, Macnair and Dolohov blinked at him. Until that moment, they had not noticed the strange, pale man, sitting upon the stair.

"Oh." Said Dolohov, indignantly. "I had forgotten about _him_."

Lucius gave his three friends an apologetic look. "I'm afraid that I have been rather silly." He said. "I saw Warner sitting over here and thought that he was Snape." This, he hoped, would dispel any ideas the others might have about him being on any sort of sociable terms with Warner whatsoever; something that at this particular moment, he was very concerned about.

Warner merely sat there, looking bored and annoyed.

Dolohov began to say something to Warner; most probably his defence for Warner's earlier outburst, when Lucius suddenly and most unexpectedly blurted out "I DO! I DO! I _DO_ BELIEVE IN FAIRIES!"

For a few seconds, even Warner looked stunned.

"Er... what?" Avery asked, hesitantly.

Lucius' pale cheeks flushed. "Uh, sorry about that chaps, I don't know what came over me. For one wild moment, I had the most inexplicable fear for ticking clocks... and... ahhh, never mind." He grinned sheepishly. "Um... yes, anyway, Warner was just about to tell me about those strange markings on his arms."

"Hm, I was wondering about those myself." Said Avery.

"What are they?" Asked Macnair

"Well, _gentlemen_, " Warner emphasised the second word in an almost mocking fashion, "these are, what you might call, the equivalents to the Death Eater's Dark Mark."

Lucius, Avery, Dolohov and Macnair looked completely nonplussed.

Warner sighed wearily. "You are of course aware that there are many other powerful wizards besides your own Dark Lord, who likewise, believe in the purification of magical blood and the abolishment of muggles and muggle-born wizards."

It was clear from their expressions that they were not.

"Well, there are." Warner continued, impatiently. "Moreover, the majority of them have set up their own secret organisations, comprised of members of the wizarding community willing to dedicate their time and energies to the cause."

"You mean... just like the Death Eaters?" Macnair asked, cautiously.

"Exactly." Said Warner. "And just like the Dark Lord, these other guys use these sort of markings to call upon their members."

"Are you telling me," said Lucius, "that you have joined all of those organisations?"

"Yup." Said Warner. "Y'know, gotta try before you buy."

"My God." Said Avery, beginning to sweat.

"Bloody hell." Said Dolohov.

"Fuck. Me." Said Macnair.

"Good Lord, man!" Lucius rasped. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? You're going to get yourself killed... if the Dark Lord finds out... I mean, Christ! People don't _do_ such things! It's just not done!"

Warner shrugged. "I appreciate your concern, but I really think that I know what I'm doin'." The corners of Warner's mouth twitched briefly into a smile. "Besides, some of these marks are pretty cool. This one is glow-in-the-dark, that one plays music, and this one is scratch 'n' sniff - smells of burnt toast, and this one... "

"Scratch 'n' sniff!!" Cried Lucius. "Fucking scratch 'n' sniff!! If the Dark Lord discovers that you have betrayed him for other evil and slightly effeminate overlords, he'll see to it that you won't have fingers or a nose to scratch 'n' sniff _with_! Indeed, scratching and sniffing should be _least_ of your priorities!"

Warner did not have a chance to answer, however, as Lord Voldemort himself emerged from the drawing room, followed by the rest of the party guests.

"To the dining room, everyone, for a game of musical chairs!" He called, cheerily. "Oh, how I love that game!"

"Hooray!!" Cheered the crowd.

"And wherever has Snape gotton to?" Said Voldemort. "I bet that none of you know this, but he is quite the accomplished player, you know."

As the crowd disappeared into the dining room, Lucius decided that it was time to continue his search for Severus Snape. "Excuse me." He said, stepping past Warner and beginning to climb the staircase.

When Lucius reached the top of the staircase, he heard voices coming from inside a nearby room. Curious, he crept along the corridor and slowly turned the door handle. The door slid open noiselessly to reveal the answer to the mystery of Snape's disappearance.

Snape was inside the darkened bedroom, kneeling in front of a stone fireplace, talking into the flames. As Lucius stepped inside, he realised that there was a head floating inside the flames. Oh, but it was not just any head, oh no; it was the head of none other than Professor Albus Dumbledore.

"You have company, Severus." Said Dumbledore's head, calmly.

Snape turned around abruptly, brandishing his wand. "Malfoy!" He hissed.

"What's going on here? What are you doing?" Lucius demanded, crossly.

"Good evening, Lucius." Said Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Severus was just contacting me to say that he is attending a gathering tonight and will not return to Hogwarts until the early hours of tomorrow morning. Isn't that right, Severus?"

"Yes, Headmaster." Said Snape, catching on to Dumbledore's ruse immediately.

"He refuses, however, to divulge his precise location, nor information concerning the nature of this gathering or it's guests. As his employer, I would naturally like an explanation as to why he has disappeared from his rooms tonight, leaving the fourth year Hufflepuff's potions essays ungraded. I wonder, could you shed any light on the matter, Mr. Malfoy?"

Lucius, overwhelmed by the extraordinary situation, was unable to speak for some moments. "So - uh - you don't know where we - ah - you don't know where we are, then?"

"I believe that is what I said, yes." Said Dumbledore, peering at Lucius over his half-moon spectacles.

"In that case," said Lucius gingerly, "I can tell you that we are in a hotel room in - ah - in... um... "

Lucius had been so preoccupied with the activities of Snape and Dumbledore that he had not yet had an opportunity to observe the room he was standing in. A quick glance around revealed that he was standing in a large bedroom. The floor was covered with a thick, brown carpet and the walls were adorned with wallpaper, printed with tiny pictures of a yellow bear holding hands with a piglet in a jumper. A large, four-poster bed intricately carved with images of demons and gargoyles, and the same bear and piglet in a jumper depicted on the wallpaper, dominated the room. There was a stylish Victorian armoire and matching dresser which unfortunately, had been painted bright pink with yellow polka-dots, an empty birdcage stood in the corner, containing nothing but a perch and a pocket dictionary. Stranger still, there was a seemingly fully functional (as the dripping would suggest) garden hose attached to a tap located directly beside the bed. In addition to the wallpaper, the walls bore unusual diagrams, demonstrating how one should go about slicing beef, maps of the London underground and street maps of Berkshire, and a poster of an almost completely naked woman which had been signed with the name "Kylie".

Lucius also noted the light fixture on the ceiling which was, like the room itself, rather large and shaped, quite absurdly, like a toothbrush with arms and legs and sported an obnoxious grin. Although it was not switched on, Lucius could see that it was composed of neon rods and tinted light bulbs. Such a thing, he thought, would not look out of place in a Las Vegas casino. Wait! That was it!

"...In Las Vegas!" Said Lucius. "Yes. Uh, we are gambling."

Lucius turned to Snape to see if this deception met with his approval, but was rather alarmed to see instead, a look of amusement pass between the potions master and his employer.

"Ah, I see." Said Dumbledore, smiling wryly. "Very well then, I shall trouble you no further. Have yourselves a good time, and Severus? I expect you back in time to teach your first class tomorrow morning. Good-night, gentlemen."

Dumbledore's head disappeared, leaving Lucius and Snape alone in the room and able to speak freely.

"You fool, Malfoy!" Snape hissed. "You absolute, brain-dead-and-festering, moronic, manicured, putrid, inept, self-indulgent, caviar eating, poodle molesting, nausea inducing, sentence butchering **FOOL**!!"

Lucius did not utter a word, but his lower lip began to quiver ever so slightly.

"Do you realise how close you came to exposing us to one of the most powerful and influential wizards of our time, for whom the unmaking of the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters is a life ambition?" Said Snape in a soft, dangerous voice. "I am convinced that he already suspects you and I of unlawful practices as it is!"

"I do **not** molest poodles!" Lucius wailed. "And if you were only contacting him to tell him not to wait up for you, then why did you feel the need to sneak off and hide yourself away in here?"

"I was not hiding, Malfoy, I merely enclosed myself within this room, away from the other party guests, so that Dumbledore would not hear the commotion downstairs and become suspicious."

"If that's what you were worried about, then why did you not simply use silencing charms?"

Snape actually looked embarrassed. "Well, as a matter a fact, I _did_ cast a silencing charm upon the room _and_ a locking spell upon the door, but obviously, neither seems to have worked. I believe that this house has some sort of spell at work, which prevents certain others being performed within it's walls - I have encountered this before, but not under such trivial circumstances."

"That means," said Lucius, crossing his arms in a defensive gesture, "that you are at least partially to blame, as you did not check that your spells had worked once you had cast them."

Snape glared at Lucius venomously. "Do _you_ always check your spells upon casting them?"

"No."

"Then shut the fuck up."

oooOooo

When Lucius and Snape rejoined the party downstairs a few minutes later, they found that everyone had once again congregated in the drawing room (which had been cleaned, somewhat), and were sitting in an orderly fashion, watching Lord Voldemort intently.

"Come in Lucius! Come in Severus! Sit down, sit down, my darlings, it's about to begin!" Voldemort chirped, pushing Lucius and Snape down onto a couple of poufs. "Ladies and Gentlemen!" He said, addressing the room. "I have a very special treat for you all tonight. At my request, Jugson and Malciber have agreed to... oooooh, I'm so excited!"

"Have agreed to what, my Lord?" Asked someone from the back of the room.

"Strip!" Cackled Bellatrix.

"Bake cakes!" Called Crabbe.

"Experiment with stuffing animals up their arses!" Suggested Macnair, who sounded as if he **really knew** what he was talking about.

"No, no, no, it's _far_ better than _that_!" Said Voldemort. "Jugson and Malciber have agreed to host a WizardWare party! Isn't that just fab, everyone?"

A WizardWare party, as Jugson and Mulciber explained to those who were not yet aware, was in fact a presentation of a selection of magical (and in most cases, highly desirable) products which would help to enhance the life of any witch or wizard. The products were put on display so that the guests could look at them, touch them, and try them out. All of the products on display were purchasable, and quite frankly, _begged_ to be purchased.

"Pleeeeaaaase buy me!" Said an extremely rare invisibility cloak.

"Lucius, that invisibility cloak is begging me to buy it." Narcissa told her husband.

"I don't think so, Narcissa."

"No, honestly! It just said: "Please buy me!" It's voice was quite high-pitched but very masculine, and had a slight French accent - not unlike Uncle Horace's. Do you remember Uncle Horace, Lucius? He's the one who used to wear that beret and striped shirt, and ride around on that bicycle all day, with those onions draped around his neck; of course, that is all over with now. These days, I hear, he resides in Ireland and has taken to wearing nothing but green attire and constantly babbles about rainbows, and pots of gold, and tops of mornings."

"Narcissa, did you forget to take your medication this morning?"

Whatever Narcissa's answer was, Lucius did not hear; for his attentions were focused upon a snake that had just slithered into the room. The snake was Nagini, Lord Voldemort's pet and main source of calcium, and she looked hungry.

Nagini slithered onto the table and wove her way around all of the items displayed there, until she came to a beautifully made, stone pensieve. She inclined her head to take a closer look at it's contents and her nostrils flared, taking in the scent of the liquid. Then, in one sudden movement, she plunged her head into the small basin and began to hungrily lap up the contents with her tongue.

"Oh... crap." Said Voldemort. "I say Jugson, what is that stuff in the pensieve?"

"Um, just water, I think. It has enchantment on it though, and I put a few of my memories in there for demonstration purposes."

"Well, my snake is drinking it." Said Voldemort, anxiously. "You don't think that it will harm her in any way, do you?"

"Well, she might believe that she got severely drunk on her stag night and passed out only to find herself chained naked to a lamppost outside the Leaky Cauldron the next morning, or she might go about thinking that she had a little too much to drink at her wedding reception and threw up on her father in-law, or she may find herself recalling an incident involving a lot of alcohol and an angry muggle policeman, or she might experience a strange feeling that she once went out drinking with some friends and somehow ended up stuck in someone's cat-flap, or perhaps, she will remember the time she fell down a well - um, after getting a bit sloshed, or... "

"I get the idea, Jugson."

"Yes, um, well, apart from that, I see no reason why the stuff in the pensieve should affect her at all, adversely or otherwise."

While Lord Voldemort was being distracted by Nagini, Lucius began to put his plan into action. He took his wand in hand and transfigured a settee into a small stage. Pleased with the results, he climbed up onto the platform and pointing his wand at his own throat, he said the word: "_Sonorus_." This increased the volume of his voice to the extreme that it sounded as if he were talking into a loudspeaker.

"Attention everyone!" Came Lucius' amplified baritone. "I have gone to the liberty of preparing a small performance to entertain you all tonight. This is a one-night-only, never to be repeated presentation, contrived especially in our dear Dark Lord's honour."

Lord Voldemort blushed and giggled. "Oh Lucius, You naughty thing! I _knew_ you were planning something, you minx!"

"If you care to watch," Lucius continued, "pray take a seat and give me your **full** attention."

The excited herd of Death Eaters scrambled to their seats, pushing and shoving to get as close to Lucius as possible. Once they were all calmly seated, Lucius removed the voice-amplifying spell and took a deep breath.

The audience braced themselves.

Nothing happened.

Now, it has to be said that even though Lucius Malfoy is considered to be, by certain people, something of a closet intellectual, and moreover, has sometimes been described as a "suppressed genius" by psychologists _and_ assorted family members, he has never been one for coming up with ideas - at least, not terribly good ones. The problem lies in the fact that he is not a patient man, and is often so eager to act upon his ideas that he simply does not spare the time to properly formulate a plan, or indeed, to realise just what a lot of utter nonsense it all is.

On this particular occasion, Lucius had suddenly realised that his planned performance had not been planned at all. Was he going to sing? _What_ was he going to sing? For that matter, _could_ he sing? Lucius stared out at all of the expectant faces and felt distinctly unwell.

"What's he going to do?" Lucius heard someone in the crowd whisper.

"I thought he was going to sing." Said Lestrange, a little louder than the previous speaker.

"Nah, he's not going to _sing_." Said Bellatrix, loudly enough for everyone to hear. "He's going to do a striptease! Aren't you, Luc?"

For a moment, Lucius felt like saying: "Absolutely not!" But then, as he considered his sister in-law's suggestion and realised that after the performance, no one would remember the slightest detail of it anyway, he found himself saying: "Um, yes."

The cheer from the crowd was immense, and immediately, hands began clapping rhythmically, and calls of "Strip!" and "Get 'em off!" filled the room.

Quite unsure of what to do, Lucius slowly removed his cloak and undid the top button of his robe. Ten minutes later, the robe was thrown into the crowd, along with an undershirt and a pair of boots. Stockings shortly followed, accompanied by a pair of black, silk underpants.

Lucius stood before the raucous audience, wearing nothing but a strategically placed top hat. He looked into the crowd nervously and caught the eye of Narcissa, who gave him an assenting nod.

Lucius raised his wand (which he had kept in his right hand, the entire time) and in one carefully calculated second, threw the top hat to one side and pointed his wand at the audience, shouting the word: "_Obliviate_!"

As soon as he had done so, Lucius quickly ducked behind the stage. Whilst the audience sat where they were, too confused and dazed to realise what was happening, Narcissa gathered up Lucius' clothes and brought them to him.

"It worked, Narcissa! It worked! Hooray!" Said Lucius happily as he pulled on his stockings.

"I think you managed to get everyone, dear. " Narcissa congratulated.

"Of course I managed to get everyone, Narcissa! Who in their right mind wouldn't be staring at that hat, knowing full well that it was about to come off, hmm?"

"Well, no one, I suppose; but, now that I think about it, I'm not sure that Sn -- "

"Oh shut up, Narcissa, your voice is grating." Lucius groaned. "I'm off to survey the damage, and don't you _dare_ spoil my fun."

When Lucius emerged, fully clothed, from behind the stage, the first sight he was confronted with was that of Lord Voldemort, tottering around dazedly on his stilettos, his red, snake-like eyes blinking vacantly.

"He - hello?" Lord Voldemort asked, uncertainly. "I say, where are we?"

"In your parent's house, my Lord."

"My parent's house? What the deuce are we doing here?"

"Having a Death Eater meeting my Lord, don't you remember?"

"Um... "

Lucius pointed to a crumpled heap underneath the buffet table, which was, in fact, Cookie Dolohov who had passed out from overeating. "You see my Lord," he said, "Mrs. Dolohov is still recovering from the Cruciatus curse you placed on her earlier."

"Uh, I did? I mean, yes, of course I did! Yes, I remember now."

"And you were about to send us all home, my Lord."

"Yes, that's right, I was, wasn't I?" Lord Voldemort said, smiling giddily to himself. "So... um, what's your name?"

"Lucius Malfoy, sir."

"Right. And what's mine?"

oooOooo

Lucius personally inspected each and every guest before they departed, to make absolutely certain that they had suffered the effects of his memory charm. He even prodded Cookie Dolohov awake (as her earlier display of gluttony had caused her to pass out before Lucius' performance) to erase her memory, leaving her in a state of extreme disorientation and peckishness.

All the while, Narcissa seemed a little agitated, and tried, ineffectually, to tell her husband precisely what was worrying her.

"Lucius, I have to tell you, when you removed that hat, I don't think that Snape - "

"Go away, Narcissa." Lucius told her. "Can't you see I'm saying good-bye to Avery?"

"I _can't_ go home!" Avery moaned. "I can't remember where home _is_!"

"Second star to the right, and straight on till morning." Said Lucius, beginning to experience the same, strange phobia of clocks as before.

"But Lucius!" Narcissa persisted. "I think he looked away! I cannot be certain of it, but - "

"Narcissa, I shall not tell you again; stop inflicting that irritating voice of yours upon me, before I give you a jolly good smack in the mouth."

Defeated, Narcissa shrugged and walked away.

Besides the Malfoys themselves, there was now only one more guest remaining.

"Severus, Severus, Severus." Said Lucius, placing his arm around Snape's shoulders and walking him towards the door. "It has been quite an evening, has it not?"

"I do not remember giving you permission to touch me, Malfoy." Said Snape, sneering and pushing Lucius' arm away in disgust.

"No, of course you don't, dear chap." Lucius chuckled. "Of course you don't."

Snape murmured something angrily under his breath.

"What did you say, Sev?"

Snape glowered at him. "I said, you need to dye your roots."

"W-what?" Lucius faltered.

Emitting sounds of irritation, Snape stepped out of the front door and walked down the five, stone steps leading to the front lawn. There, he paused and looked back at Lucius. "You need to dye your roots." He repeated. "Your hair has outgrown the dye. Alternatively, I would suggest wearing a hat. I believe that there was a top hat discarded earlier that would suit you perfectly; although, you may want to wear something _else_ with it this time, if you plan to be seen in public and not do not wish to be arrested for indecent exposure."

With what might have been a twinkle of amusement in his black eyes, Snape disaparated without another word, leaving Lucius Malfoy completely distraught.

"Wait! Severus! **WAIT**!" Lucius cried frantically, but it was already too late. "**NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**!!! Come back! Come back!!

"Something the matter, dear?" Came Narcissa's voice from behind him.

"Snape escaped the memory charm!" Lucius shrieked. "He saw the whole thing, Narcissa, and he _remembers_! The slimy git remembers _everything_!!"

"Well, can't you go after him?"

"And apparate at Hogwarts school, in front of all the kiddies, wearing my Death Eater robes? I'm sure that _that_ will go down well with the Ministry. Besides, you can't apparate into Hogwarts anyway, you fluff-brained maggot."

"Then neither can Snape! You could apparate just _outside_ the school."

"It will be too late by then." Lucius sighed. "And how would I gain access to the castle? Shit. This is all _your_ fault, Narcissa."

"My fault?" Narcissa snapped. "I have been _trying_ to tell you that Snape might have looked away the instant you cast that spell, but would you listen? Ohhhh no."

"Narcissa," said Lucius calmly, "I am going to kill you now."

"I _told_ you this plan wouldn't work!"

"Avada... !"

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

Wow! This one actually had a plot (sort of).

Let me know if you liked it, and if you didn't like it... well, I can't say I blame you.


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